


Monsters and Machines and Monday Night Frights, Oh My!

by Star_less



Series: the 'snips, snails, puppy-dog tails' verse [1]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers Family, Avengers Tower, Bedwetting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Avengers, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Papa Bear Steve Rogers, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter is an Avenger, Peter is upset but he is okay!!!!!, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Protective Steve Rogers, Sort of? I guess?, Steve Rogers Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, ignoring endgame completely, no endgame here!!!!, oofffff I want a Peter Parker where do ya'll buy one, spideyson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-02-04 08:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18601138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_less/pseuds/Star_less
Summary: Peter has a little trouble adjusting to his time in the Avengers Tower and - shock horror - on his first night an.... incident... occurs. Luckily, someone is right there to help him out. Someone... Steve Rogers shaped.





	Monsters and Machines and Monday Night Frights, Oh My!

**Author's Note:**

> today I turned twenty years old and today I also watched avengers: endgame. I am emotionally exhausted from both events - I needed something Peter-y to heal me. infantilism tag is there because I write Peter as a littttttlleeee bit younger than he is in canon. contains bedwetting too. click back if you don't like those.
> 
> also yeeee here we go again frankencanon!!!!!!!!!!!! what is a 'civil war', 'infinity war' WHOMST, who is an 'endgame' I don't know HER. stitching avengers 2012 onto hoco so all the bad stuff goes away!

Pulling his duvet up as tight as it would go around his chin, Peter Parker sighed to himself and looked around timidly in the darkness. He suddenly felt very small… very small in a room so big, as if the enormity of the situation had finally hit. He had just been recruited into the Avengers and, as was usual with recruitment, had been given a bedroom all of his own in the tower. It was much larger than his own bedroom back in Queens, with a bed that was larger and softer and rather felt as though he were laying on a marshmallow. Although, that did nothing to relieve his anxieties at present. 

Aunt May knew he was on the internship, of course, and she was extremely proud of him. She had managed to keep all of her tears at bay when Peter had packed up his bags and given her a watery smile before departing their apartment forever; she had told him that he was finally growing up and that she was so very proud of him, but just because he was a big independent intern now didn’t mean he couldn’t call her if he needed to. That was what they had done; made it routine for Peter to snuggle down under the covers and FaceTime his aunt to wish her goodnight. 

…Or at least, that was the plan, anyway - Peter hadn’t yet been away from her. 

This was his first night.

They had wished each other goodnight nearly four hours ago at 10:30 pm, but Peter found himself tossing and turning in bed, reaching for his phone, willing May to call again. 

He missed her. He really, really missed her. Already. A part of him, deep inside, told himself to get a grip, Parker, after all… it’d not even been a day. But Peter was exhausted and emotional and so no amount of rationalising could pull him out of it. He missed May so much, and there was an uncomfortable wriggliness to his belly that told him he had made the wrong decision, that he’d never make it as an Avenger. What if May needed him? Or… or… what if she decided she didn’t want to have him back, ever again?!  
Turning over in bed, he tried to blink the burning tears away from his eyes and get some sleep, tried to think about what May had said to him today. She had reassured him over and over - said she missed him, but she was sure he was having fun and could come home whenever he wanted to. She had asked him what he was going to do about his little… issue, but he had ignored her then and he was going to ignore her now.  
He was an Avenger now, and Avengers didn’t wet their bed.

Except right now he was definitely ‘not fine’. “Mr. Stark!” Peter called, the tears streaming down his cheeks and burning in his eyes. He was alone, and it was dark - the kinda dark that made it impossible to see anyone - and… and he was drowning. “Mr. Stark, help me!” He whimpered again, shakily, feeling more and more like a tiny child calling for his father. He had just about managed to keep his head above water level by treading water through his fingers, but his arms were getting tired. When eventually his arms gave way and he sunk a little bit, the water sweeping over his chin and his lips and his nose, the teenager had to fight furiously with all of his might to keep afloat. But he wasn’t strong enough to do it by himself… Peter tossed, kicked, turned harder. He needed Mr. Stark! Where was Mr. Stark, why couldn’t Mr Stark save him like before?  
He slipped further into the murky water with a cry, trying to scream out for his mentor one last time - but this only helped him to take in a mouthful of dirty water. Peter coughed and spluttered until his throat ached until all of his breaths had been pulled from him every single breath and he was sinking and sinking and— 

He woke with a start, heart pounding, eyes darting around and adjusting to his surroundings. Oh… oh, thank goodness!  
He was… he was back in the tower, in bed.  
He was safe…  
He was… wet? Cold and wet. A sinking feeling rose from the pit of his belly as he patted down his sheets and found them soggy to the touch. No… no… he couldn’t have.. not on his first night…

But there was no doubt to it. Peter had wet his bed. Heart pounding, he felt babyish tears welling in his eyes as he scrambled from the soaked bed and turned his light on, throwing the room into light and showing him his stained bedsheets; a wet spot covering a majority of the sheet and the entirety of his pajama bottoms. He put the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying desperately to hold back the tears, a sob clawing its way out of his throat. Now he missed Aunt May. Whenever he had an accident - which was more often than he’d like to admit - she would always be there, whether he’d woken her at 3:30 in the morning or 5:45 in the evening after his afternoon nap. She would always be there for him with a soft (sometimes sleepy) word, a small cuddle, and she would help him strip the soaked sheets from his bed and put them on a wash for him too. 

But now she was gone. And… and it was his first night. He couldn’t go looking for Stark on his first night - and more than that, he couldn’t ask Tony Stark for a cuddle! What was he, four? Tony already saw him as a child, seeking him out for a cuddle would no doubt just exacerbate those feelings.  
There was nothing he could do other than start to strip his bed himself. The young teenager peeled the sheets from each corner of his bed, fighting with the wet fabric. He eventually got them rolled up into a bundle, and his damp duvet too. Trailing the wet materials behind him, Peter crept out of his bedroom to the hallway. With most of the Avengers now asleep, the hallway sat in a dim pool of light. Peter stared down the long hallway, bunching his toes into the carpet - then froze with realisation. 

Where… where was the laundry room..?

Anxious, Peter crept down the hall and nervously peered into each open doorway, but all of his search efforts were useless. “JARVIS..?” He whispered, suddenly remembering Mr. Stark telling him about the A.I. and how he could always rely on him for help somehow.

“Good evening, Peter,” the A.I. burst into life but spoke calmly to him, “Is something the matter?”

Even at being asked that one simple question, Peter whimpered unhappily. “I- I can’t find the laundry room and I need to wash my sheets.” He continued to whisper, curling further and further into himself even though he knew the A.I. wouldn’t say a bad word about him. True enough, the A.I. certainly didn’t say anything bad, rather just did as he was asked. “The laundry room is on the floor below you, although the bathroom just two doors away has a washing machine, young sir.” 

Just two doors away, how did he miss that?“Thank you, JARVIS.” Peter murmured, trailing his sheets behind him once more as he wandered into the bathroom. Sure enough, there was a washing machine right there. The young Avenger sighed to himself and kneeled down, beginning to load the washer. He had never worked the washer before, he had only ever watched May do it whenever he needed a fresh change of bedsheets… but it couldn’t be that hard, could it? Loading the washer fully, Peter shut the door and slammed the ‘on’ button. 

Nothing happened. 

Frowning, Peter pulled the wet garments out, shoved them back inside again, slammed the door. Perhaps he had loaded it wrong. 

Still... nothing happened. Peter pressed the button over and over, like an impatient child, tears flinging their way to his eyes once more - but nothing happened. May made it look so easy! And he was so tired… if he couldn’t accomplish this, how would he ever be an Avenger?!  
“Please… please work, I just wanna go back to sleep..” Peter pleaded the machine miserably as he continued to press the ‘on’ button, eyes watering. Eventually, his pleading words gave way to sobs and he blubbered unhappily, exhaustedly, sat in his soiled garments. Occasionally he would rub his eyes childishly, whimpering under his breath for Aunt May, as if the woman was going to materialise right there with him (in her pajamas, ready for a cuddle.)

He was so lost in his upset that he didn’t quite realise how loud he was blubbing. The crying was faint to most of the Avengers who were already asleep in anticipation for the day ahead. As an A.I. there was little JARVIS could do, either, other than alert the rest of Peter’s teammates one by one in the hope that they came to Peter’s attention. As it happened Steve was the only Avenger still awake, reading in the common room when JARVIS spoke. “Captain Rogers?”

Steve looked up with a frown, marking where he was in his book before giving his full attention to the A.I., “Yes, JARVIS, is something the matter?”

“Your fellow teammate, Peter Parker, seems to be in distress.” The A.I. said. Now that JARVIS had brought his full attention to it (and he wasn’t lost in his book) Steve could hear the faintest sound of crying. He frowned deeper. “Thank you, JARVIS, I’ll see to him.” The super soldier murmured, rising to his feet. “Where is he?”

“Level 16, Captain.” The A.I. said, but Steve was gone before he’d finished his sentence.

 

*

 

“Kid, are you alright?”

Steve had rushed to the source of the crying as quick as he could. Somehow, the scene that awaited him took him by surprise. He had expected Peter to be hurt, to perhaps be missing his Aunt; but instead, the young teenager was crumpled - and completely broken down sobbing - in between what looked to be his bedsheets. His soiled bedsheets - there was a wide yellow stain setting in on them. 

Peter had not quite been expecting Steve to turn up. He hadn’t expected anyone to turn up, actually, and so the interruption made him cower slightly, scrambling to wipe the tears from his eyes. “F- fine! Fine, Mr. Captain America sir!” He stammered, squeaking slightly - a sure indication he was lying. Not that Steve thought the boy was anywhere close to telling the truth, anyway. 

“Are you sure, Peter?” The man murmured, cocking his head slightly giving him the chance to tell the truth. His voice had taken on somewhat of a stern, authoritative tone as soon as he had set eyes on the child.

Peter nodded, scrambling to stand up in amongst his soggy bedsheets and make a quick exit. “Fine, I- I pro…” he started - but realised, just a second too late, that this was giving Steve a full view of his soaked-through pyjama bottoms. They were so wet they clung to his legs and dripped the cold liquid down his legs and over his toes; feeling yucky, the young teenager trailed off and started to whimper uncomfortably as the tears started again. 

Steve sighed softly. Poor kid. “I’m gonna take that as a no.” he said gently, putting one large hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s clear you up. What happened?” He asked, gathering up the wet bedsheets to put in the washer. He made sure that his back was turned away from Peter while he did this; perhaps the kid would open up a little bit then.

“You d-don’t hafta… you don’t hafta do that. You’re gonna get your hands wet.” Peter stammered as he watched the super soldier loading the washer. An ashamed blush leaked over his cheeks and he shifted uncomfortably foot to foot. Not even a day he had been at the Avengers tower, and here he was… already getting Captain America to wash his bedsheets. He hoped Mr. Stark didn’t get word of this - he knew the man would strip him of his Avenger status straight away and he would have to go home. Avengers, after all, didn’t wet their beds. 

“S’fine, kid. I’ll wash up your pajamas too.” Steve said easily, shrugging. “Now, are you going to tell me what the problem is?”

Peter balled one hand into a fist and rubbed his eyes, half out of exhaustion and half to stop further tears from streaming down his cheeks. “Just… just a bad dream…” he murmured, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to… to..” His eyes glanced over to his wet bedsheets in the washer, giving them an insecure stare. Then his gaze travelled down to his pyjamas, soaked through, his lip trembled. “I ruined my Spider-Man pajamas,” the teenager complained, his voice tight as though he was about to start blubbing. He knew it was a childish thing to get worked up about, but Mr. Stark had given him those as a present for his first official night in the Avengers tower… and now they were smelly, and ruined, and it was late at night and he was tired and he missed Aunt May and and and… 

Peter didn’t realise when exactly it happened, but suddenly he had burst into tears all over again, his face quickly becoming a blotchy, itchy, tear-stained mess. 

“Kid, you’re okay.” Steve said with concern, moving forward and giving Peter’s shoulder a light squeeze. The young boy all but gave up on being mature, crumbling into Steve’s embrace. They didn’t move for a little while, Steve holding the crying boy and calmly rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe his tears. Peter clung onto Steve, buried his face into the man’s chest and took some shakily deep breaths until he finally calmed down. He had a fairly tight grip on Steve, conscious that the Avenger was going to abandon him there and then. But Steve stayed there faithfully until Peter’s shaky breaths and fat tears dwindled down to nothing. It was only then that he slowed the rhythmic patting on the teenager’s back and gently broke their hug. “You’re alright.” Steve murmured soothingly, a thin smile coming to his face as he saw he had calmed the teenager considerably. He crouched down slightly, more to Peter’s level so the teenager was calm. “We’ll get your pajamas cleaned and no one has to know. Our secret.” He promised. “Is it too late for a bath?”

Peter solemnly shook his head, his eyes red-rimmed and owlish. He couldn’t sleep when his legs felt so cold and sticky. At this answer, Steve quickly drew the youngest Avenger a bath, adding in some of the bubble bath lined up on the side of the bathtub. Banana. He had seen Stark add that one to their grocery list and it had quickly appeared, in a monkey-shaped bottle.  
Peter, seeing bubbles rise in the tub, smiled to himself. How did Mr. Rogers know that one was his favourite?

The teenager waited until Steve left the room before tugging off his soaked pyjamas and sinking into the bubbles. Peter didn’t want to stay in the tub for long - his midnight antics were slowly beginning to take a toll as his eyelids were beginning to grow heavy. He washed his arms and legs as quickly as he possibly could in between long, slow, sleepy blinks. To his surprise, when he stepped out of the tub, there was a neatly folded set of pajamas on the floor, and his soiled pajamas had already disappeared. Drying off quickly, Peter unfolded the pajamas. They had Captain America print all over them; kind of like, the teenager thought, he was getting an all over cuddle from Cap himself.  
Peter stepped into them with a quiet smile as he unlocked the bathroom door, comfort washing over his body. He had to remember to thank Mr. Rogers in the morning. It was nice of him to stay up, even though Peter was plenty grown up enough to look after himself in the evenings. The teenager was so lost in thought that he didn’t register when he bumped into Steve himself, the super soldier towering over him.  
“Nice pyjamas, kiddo.” He winked. “Nice bath?”

Peter jumped, eyes widening in surprise. “Mr.—! I- I didn’t realise you were still awake.” He stammered, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot as guilt squeezed in his tummy. He hoped the man didn’t stay up waiting just for him…

Steve smiled sedately, not minding in the slightest, even if the teenager didn’t respond to his question. “I made sure to flip the mattress and change your bedsheets, bud. Let’s get you back to bed.” He encouraged, hand resting on the small of Peter’s back as he encouraged the young teenager back to bed. Peter obediently followed Steve back to his bedroom. As if by magic, the young Avenger found himself growing sleepier and sleepier the closer he got to his bedroom. By the time he got there, he was nearly dead on his feet - having to keep rubbing his eyes in an attempt to stay awake. He all but fell into bed, gaining a giggle from Steve. Steve perched on the edge of the teenager’s bed, making sure he was tucked in tightly. Peter watched the older Avenger through long lashes, his vision growing blurry as he drifted off further and further into sleep. Steve was speaking slowly to him, but whatever he was saying wasn’t quite going in, his voice drifting further and further away. 

“Does this happen a lot, kiddo?” Steve asked, in a slow, calm voice that he usually only used when he was talking to any children who saw him as Cap. Tony hadn’t mentioned anything about this happening, so he wondered if the child was keeping a secret. 

“Nnnn.” Peter murmured, too sleepy to make his mouth say anything. He shook his head a fraction as he nestled down into his pillow, eyes nearly fully closed by this point. It was an outright lie, of course, and May had drilled it into him that he must tell all the Avengers about his issue, that they would all help him if he needed help, but Peter had refused then and he was refusing now.  
“Don’t need ‘em...” He sleepily sulked, looking at Steve. His eyes were sleepy slits.

“Don’t need what?” Steve asked, puzzled. He hadn’t told Peter about needing anything. He wondered if the kid was dreaming, but waited patiently for an answer. 

“Pr’tection. Don’t need ‘em...” Peter mumbled, his voice low now as he was on the cusp of fully sleeping. 

“Sure you don’t, kid.” Steve let out a low, fond chuckle, although he was puzzled by the conversation somewhat, having no idea what Peter was even talking about. It was best to simply humour him. Shrugging to himself, he let it drop so the kid could get some sleep, rising from his bed. “Goodnight, Peter.” He whispered as he moved to the doorway.

“Nigh’ Steve.” Peter mumbled in between a light snore, too tired to remember to be polite. “Th’nkoo f’rhelpin’me..” he managed to say before crashing into sleep fully, his heavy eyes finally closing tight. 

Steve chuckled, smiling fondly at the teenager as he stood in the doorway, shutting the door so that it let in a thin chink of light lest the boy need to make any more nighttime visits. “No problem, kid.” He murmured, “Any time you need me, I’ll be there.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm going to go cry myself to sleep yo endgame was both glitteringly exhilarating and exhausting
> 
> also I edited a little bit of this see I’m lazy and I initially had this as a huge fic that locked in nicely but I gave up on that idea but it kinda messed with certain bits of it oops


End file.
